Ideals
by loquat
Summary: It wasn't the first time that Skywarp had been thinking like this. But that didn't mean he had to like it. SWxTC mentioned briefly.


A/N: I blame my absence on a combination of school, summer, and laziness. But I have returned from the depths, and I bring gifts.

Disclaimer: Doesn't own Transformers, no rights to these characters what so ever.

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~Ideals~

It was not necessarily...unusual for him to be thinking like this. Skywarp often had conversations with himself while he was alone on patrol. It made the time pass easier, and quieted the constant hum of a thousand different calculations being conducted simultaneously in his mind.

The daydreams were part of what made the mech varying degrees of unreliable with his comrades, "slightly distracted" at the best of times, "flighty" at most, and completely unreachable when the situation was severe enough. And while Thundercracker and Starscream know how to break through the fog and get his attention, most of the Decepticons were not as knowledgable of the inner recesses of his CPU as his trine mates.

But while the aptly named 'castles in the sky' partially forced the mech into a state where he was almost constantly not paying full attention, Skywarp could probably be a lot unhealthier than he was. Left to dwell without distraction, the back of his processor would start itching to make the Seeker's train of thought slowly shift to more serious topics, most of them impossibly fragmented memories, and many of them painful.

It wasn't really unusual that Skywarp was daydreaming during patrol. Rather, it was the fact that this topic wasn't very new at all.

A topic of distraction, per Skywarp definition, was usually something that could be run with for a very long time, without have to stop and really concentrate on an idea that he'd stumbled on. Once this matter was exhausted, it was time to move on to a new one, since he wouldn't be able to subconsciously wander through the topic again in a different, yet equally engaging manner. Questions should never, ever be repeated, lest they lead into the ideas that hid in the back of his mind, that had much more of a sting.

Perhaps that was what made his spark ache in such an uncomfortable, though not necessarily unfamiliar, manner.

_I really ought to stop tellin' myself all thi_s, the Seeker thought again, checking his inner chronometer to see if he could go back to base and get someone from his trine to help him stop his mind from spinning in circles. He would have preferred it to be Thundercracker. The mech had always had a smooth, calming voice and a sparing, yet gentle touch that always calmed the mech down when he tried to deal with his more complex emotions until they drove him into a frenzy.

Perhaps that was what all those slagging Autobots saw in that Prime of theirs, besides those sappy Autobot ideals. The mech had always had a nice voice, even when it was shouting orders on a battlefield, and he probably had the touch to go with it. It was much better than his Air Commander's, who had the tendency to use his screeching vocals until he was beaten for insubordination and in need of another overhauling repair.

So the Autobots had their Prime, and their ideals, and each other. And Skywarp had...

Uh-oh.

The mech shook himself again, trying to get rid of the thoughts even as they pushed through his barriers. He didn't want to think like this again. The last time he'd succumb to these kinds of emotions, he'd been thrown in the brig for an argument with a couple of Constructicons that had come to a head with a brawl.

And yet the thoughts continued to push through and bunch up and get all tangled around the things he was supposed to be thinking about. Things like his warping and where he was going.

Speaking of which, where _was_ he going?

The Seeker cursed when he realized that, instead of taking the gentle curve that would have slowly led him through the end of his patrol, he'd instead plowed straight forward without paying any attention to the fact that he'd missed any chance of the turn by so much that he was getting farther away from his base by the second. Skywarp banked hard, a wing to the sky and another towards where he assumed earth was, and reset his course, running a quick calculation as to how much longer it would take him to return.

His spark sank as he realized he'd be out here a fair bit longer than he'd anticipated.

The Seeker's processor started reeling again, dredging up the thoughts that he'd so forcefully tried to keep down. And try as he might, there was a part of him that, for some odd reason, seemed to like contemplating the part of his spark that made him really unsure of his decision to join the Decepticons earlier in life. Not that he ever was completely sure of the path he'd taken. It was just that, when no one was around to shout their plans for glory (honor would have been a nice side victory, but was never a must) and universal conquest, his self-doubts suddenly got a lot louder.

Skywarp chuckled as he realized that the part of him that was trying so hard to get him to think like this wasn't in the inner recesses of his processor. It was his conscience.

"Ah, what the pit," he muttered aloud, the block in his mind dissipating as he let the ideas slowly creep out again. If he was going to have all this self discovery while flying back to base, he might as well be aware of the thoughts as he made him. He could kind of control them that way, right? Make them feel less like sucker punches to his tanks, right?

Couldn't he?

The mech dropped and rose in altitude quickly, a poor attempt to clear his processor, then returned to his previous thoughts.

The Autobots were a bunch of sappy cowards, he knew that. But they were sappy cowards with sappy ideals, sappy comrades, and a sappy Prime. And while those ideals would come back to bite them, those comrades to betray them, that Prime to let them down, Skywarp had to admit that the idea of actually believing in what you were fighting for, and the people you were fighting it with, seemed...really nice.

He'd believed in the cause towards the beginning, back when it seemed like Megatron the Lord High Protector was taking control to purge the planet of the mechs and femmes who severely hindered or stalled social, global, and interstellar progress. Back before the mech had gone absolutely mad with power, and had lost his ideal facade for that of Megatron the Tyrant's. His plan was for universal conquest, and ultimate power in the end. And the only reason that Skywarp could think of that would explain why that still appealed to him in the slightest was because, if you were at the top of the food chain, no one would come and arrest you for the things you'd done to get there.

A lot of the mechs among the Decepticons did, in fact, believe that what they were doing was, if not necessarily right, just in consideration of self preservation. Though Skywarp had to wonder how much of that was actually a glee for the possibility that, whenever they got on the battlefield, they could kill mech after mech if they were able too. The lust of holding the fate of an enemy's spark in their hands was almost as maddening as energon-lust.

Skywarp, however, didn't think that what they were doing was right. If it was, then they'd probably be winning. But they were losing. And very badly, at that. One of the only thing that kept him with the Decepticons at this point was that, if he was getting shot at among the mechs he fought with on a regular basis, it wasn't because of a planned execution.

The Seeker doubted that he would ever feel like he would ever live in safety again. He'd done too much to seek any source of welcome from the opposite faction, short of the welcome that had chains in one hand and a rifle in the other.

_They've done things they're not proud of, too_. A small sensation rose up in his spark, fluttering with hope. While a large part of him embraced the idea, the part of his CPU that was keeping watch over whatever he thought was unimpressed, unsurprised, and entirely disenchanted with that hopeful sensation. That part of his CPU, however, was currently being quiet.

_They've done things that they've regretted. And yet they've learned to forgive each other for the unthinkable. Perhaps, if approached slowly, they could forgive again?_

Skywarp rattled his frame to snap himself out of the silly idea, thouroughly squishing it before he could let it get his hopes up. He was completely alone in this, and shouldn't have the tendencies of Autobots be his last shred of hope for salvation.

Alone. Utterly alone.

The bitter feeling settle in Skywarp's spark as he thought of the mechs he stood by and fought with on a regular basis. Did he have any connection with them? Most certainly not, though that didn't mean they couldn't stand next to each other and shoot at other mechs while someone blew their audio sensors off giving orders over a comm.

Did he trust any of the mechs?

That question caused Skywarp to pause.

It had been unneeded of him to consider how he felt about his comrades in the past. An ironic twist on the "shoot now, ask questions later" tactic they so often employed. However, if he truly thought about it, the only mechs he really trusted were those in his trine. And even that relationship had it's loose points. Starscream had such a habit of getting himself slagged for insubordination that he wasn't reliable enough to be a steady pillar that Skywarp could lean against if he needed to. The mech had felt, over the past few vorns, the trust he had for his air commander, not as a comrade, but as a friend and confidant...disappear.

The sensation was one that put Skywarp on edge.

Thundercracker was an entirely different story. The mech was solid, always good for advice, and someone that Skywarp could talk to, really talk to. But he'd grown more and more withdrawn as Starscream had grown more and more erratic, compensating as best he could to keep the bond between the three Seekers stable. Skywarp had begun to wonder if he was adopting Soundwave's tendency to speak as if there was no spark pulsing in his chassis. That is, until, well...

Skywarp shuddered as he remember the feeling of a solidly warm body against his, a mouth flush over his and hands steadily working. The crackling electricity of overload that had driven him over the edge, a wild passion that broke every rule that Skywarp had set up for himself over the years. It had been wonderful, to feel someone like that again. To be able to fill their spark with his own, to clean out the pain and dirtiness that afflicted every mech who went through war, no matter what side they were on. He'd been happier that night than he had in a very long time, and he'd thought that Thundercracker had felt the same.

But the mech had grown colder and more distant since the event, acting as if it was something unpleasant that shouldn't be talked about. It had come to a head nearly a week ago, in a shouting match where Skywarp was trying to convince Thundercracker that there wasn't anything to be afraid of, and Thundercracker was yelling something about not wanting to loose another lover to this slagging war.

The battle of words had run in circles, until Starscream had stumbled out of their combined berth room, smacked the two on the back of the helm, and told them to shut the frag up and get some slagging recharge before he ripped them both new interface panels in their faces. The Air Commander had then proceeded to change every scheduled activity that the two mechs were doing for several earth weeks, making it impossible for them to say anything to each other unless they went and found the other on their own.

Skywarp had considered doing so many times, but each time it had ended with his hand hovering above a door chime, his spark quivering on a very thin fulcrum. The mech was too frightened of falling off one side, and he guessed that Thundercracker was too. But neither mech would take the leap, and as a result their argument seemed to be one of the few things that they shared anymore.

He sighed, thoroughly frustrated with where his mind had taken him. While it had carried much closer to base than any normal pattern of thought would have, it came at a price. The mech knew as well as anyone that distracting thoughts such as these would not stay buried for long.

Skywarp suddenly thought of something. He transformed, hovering in midair as he stared in the direction of where he knew the Autobot base was.

He could do it. Just pack up and leave it all behind, seeking forgiveness and a chance to run from his thoughts. He would do it in a spark pulse, too, if nothing had been holding him back.

But the one mech he just couldn't shake was.

A comm. chimed at the back of his processor, pulling the Seeker out of his train of thought. He opened it, then hear a familiar voice whine over the link.

_:Where the slag are you?:_

"Sorry. Got thrown off course by some wind."

_:Yeah, well, get your aft back to base. Thundercracker's driving me crazy!:_

Skywarp paused, then asked, "Thundercracker?"

_:The slagger's been worried sick about you ever since you didn't come back to base on time. Checking over all the flight patterns, weather reports, anything to find out where you'd gone. Apparently, using a comm. would have been out of the question.:_

"Apparently," Skywarp breathed, his spark fluttering in his sparkchamber.

_:Does this have anything to do with that screaming match last week?:_

"What? Oh, no. At least, I don't think so."

Starscream didn't say anything for a moment, though his frown was audible over the connection. Then, Skywarp felt the pulse in the back of his mind that meant the mech was shrugging. _:Whatever. Just get back here before I have to dismember him. Starscream out.:_

Skywarp continued to hover in midair, unsure of how to proceed. However, it was impossible to ignore the feelings of elation that were leaking from his spark.

Another comm. pinged in his CPU. Skywarp opened it, expecting to find more words meant to inspire speed from his Air Commander. Instead, there was a single line that shook Skywarp's core.

_:Come home, lover.:_

The mech smiled to himself, then transformed and sped off to base. Maybe he wouldn't need to defect after all. He seemed to have more than what the sappy Autobots could give him right here.

~Fin~

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